Can you be my Sun?

Can you be my sun?

Winter has begun

in the freezing winds

that blow between

the fold beneath my skull.

Can you be my shoulder?

My hands are gripping teardrops;

my arms hang aimless,

touched only by the tears

that drip from palm to wrist.

Can you be my smile?

Lines run deep in the skin

above my sullen eyes while

the corners of my mouth stand still

through the shifting fabric of time.

Can you be my heartbeat?

The world around me moves

as if untouched by loss;

I lay still.